


blowjobs and pancakes

by memitims



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Breakfast, Fluff, M/M, PWP, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 19:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memitims/pseuds/memitims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ian and mickey have breakfast at the gallagher house. alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blowjobs and pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> requested by **[noelfuckinfisher](http://noelfuckinfisher.tumblr.com)** as part of the [angst prompt meme](http://distractedpainter.tumblr.com/post/82169288531/another-angsty-starters-meme) on tumblr ("Didn’t you see what I did?!") except i broke the rules and wrote something fluffy for this one instead oops fight me

If someone had told Ian a year ago that he would be making pancakes for Mickey in his kitchen, with his family chattering away around them, he would have told them to fuck off. That domestic fantasy shit was for his daydreams only, it wasn’t something he could actually have. He thought about it, sure, but he never thought he’d actually have it.

And then Mickey turned his world upside-down and made it clear that he wanted to be here, he wanted to be with Ian, and that made Ian smile to himself over the bowl of pancake batter he was mixing with a wooden spoon.

His eyes slid over to the kitchen table, where Debbie and Carl were pestering Mickey about his delinquent adventures in middle school. It probably wasn’t a great example for Carl, but all three of them were laughing and smiling, so Ian couldn’t really find a reason to break it up. Ian dropped a slab of butter into the hot pan on the stove and stirred it around. He watched as his younger siblings got up from the table and headed off to school, or whatever the fuck they did during the day, and then they were alone in the kitchen.

“Take your meds yet, Ian?” Mickey asked, like he did every morning. Ian had been pretty annoyed by that, at first, but he realized after a while that it was kinda sweet. In a house that had always been a blur of activity, it was nice to have someone pay attention.

Ian sighed. “‘Course I did.”

“Good.” Mickey nodded. “How are my pancakes coming?”

Ian scoffed. “ _Your_  pancakes? Who said I’m making these for you?”

Mickey grinned at him, that big shit-eating one that sent sparks down Ian’s spine. He didn’t smile often, but Ian couldn’t get enough of it, the way his entire face lit up and his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched up. Ian was so in love with him. It was seriously disgusting.

“I’m pretty sure that hummer this morning did.”

Ian waved his hand and poured a circle of batter into the hot pan with his other. “Whatever. Fine. It was kinda lame, though. Over too fast. You never draw it out when you’re hungry.”

“Uh,” Mickey said, “Make me some pancakes and I’ll see if I can go a bit slower. House’s empty.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Ian.

Ian threw a towel at his head and laughed. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Damn straight.”

“You’ll like this too. Watch.” Ian grabbed the spatula and stuck it under the sizzling pancake. The pan hissed and crackled, but Ian didn’t back up. He flipped the pancake upwards and it spun around in the air before landing perfectly back in the pan with the cooked side facing upwards.

Mickey looked unimpressed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ian exclaimed. “Didn’t you see what I did?”

“Yeah, okay hotshot,” Mickey laughed. “That talent’s gonna get you real far. Put it on your fucking resume.”

Ian glared at him. “You’re a fucking dick.”

“At least I don’t think flipping pancakes is hot shit.”

“It landed  _perfectly_ ,” Ian groaned. “You just don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”

Mickey stood up from the table and looked Ian up and down, a small smirk spreading over his features. Ian turned away from the stove to watch him stroll over lazily. Mickey bit his lip and Ian dropped the spatula on the counter, the hard plastic clattering against the tile.

“Hmm,” Mickey said, lowly. “I don’t know about that.” He boxed Ian in against the counter and trailed his fingers down Ian’s arms until he reached the low-slung waist of Ian’s pajama pants. It felt like someone lit a match against Ian’s skin, the way Mickey’s hands moved gentle, then rough, and Ian was standing in his kitchen, hard in his fucking pajama pants, while Mickey stared innocently, eyes dark and wide.

“Oh. O-okay,” Ian managed to get out, twisting his hands in Mickey’s messy morning hair as he sunk to his knees. “This is happening. Okay.”

Mickey grinned up at him, and then he was pulling down Ian’s pants and his boxers, and taking Ian’s cock in his mouth.

“Mickey,” moaned Ian, softly. “Wait, Mickey.” As soon as Mickey had touched him he felt his head getting foggy, getting fuzzy around the edges, and Mickey’s mouth around him made it even worse, but they were in the goddamn kitchen and that thought cleared up Ian’s head pretty quick. “Anyone can walk in. The pancakes are gonna. Gonna burn. Wait.” His voice was unsteady, shaky, and Mickey pulled back with a frankly obscene noise.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, and his voice wasn’t much better than Ian’s, and then Ian’s hips were bucking upwards of their own accord and Mickey leaned forward to lick at his cock again.

Ian couldn’t help but let a tiny whine slip out, the kind that made Mickey smile and work his mouth faster, licking his way up and down Ian’s shaft. He could smell the pancake burning behind him, but then Mickey did something amazing with his lips and Ian immediately forgot all about it.

“Oh  _god_ ,” he cried, “Mickey c’mon, fuck,  _Mickey_ ,” and he might have been begging a little bit, because it felt so fucking good, and Mickey’s cheeks had turned the nicest shade of pink, the way Ian always teased him about, but he wasn’t laughing now.

He could feel himself get close, Mickey’s hands steady around his hips, and he tugged a little on Mickey’s hair with one hand to let him know that he was almost there. His other hand was wrapped around the kitchen counter, clutching hard enough that his knuckles turned white. Mickey nodded and gave one last good, expert suck, and then Ian came down his throat with a shudder, and Mickey’s eyes were squeezed shut as he lapped it up. Ian couldn’t keep his own eyes off him.

“Jesus,” he laughed breathily, when Mickey got his eyes open again. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” Mickey agreed, looking a bit dazed, and then Ian pulled him up and got his own hand inside Mickey’s pajamas to work at his cock for a few minutes, loving the short little moans and hitched whimpers that Mickey panted against his neck, until he was over the edge too, his body shaking a little as he came and his mouth falling open. They leaned against each other in the empty kitchen, breathing hard.

Ian reached behind him and turned off the stove.

“Think your pancake’s done,” Ian breathed.

Mickey smiled against his skin and kissed Ian’s neck, sweet in every way it seemed like he wasn’t. “Awesome.”

“Yeah,” Ian echoed. “Awesome,” and he wasn’t talking about the pancake.


End file.
